The arm wasn't that big of a startle, she'd come across enough other races with their own sort of thing. Hawke returned the gesture easily enough. "Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, now that's a mouthful and a half." The man was very capable though, and she liked capable people. Even if she was still pretty certain he shouldn't be jumping off of trees. She did suddenly laugh and clapped her hands. "The Eagle and the Hawke. Only one of us seems to think he can fly, and the other one is very aware that she cannot." Her tone was light and playful. She generally liked people, until they gave her reason not to.

She couldn't place his accent, and she was fairly good at accents of all kind. Kirkwall got all sorts. But since coming here she'd been more aware of the fact that Ferelden, Kirkwall, the Free Marches, they were long behind her. For good or for ill. "Right, well, technically my first name is Marian, but only my family call me that, and they're mostly all dead, so no one really does." Hawke preferred it that way. She didn't want to hear the name Marian and think of her mother's corpse. It brought down the mood.

"Wait, how'd you get up in the tree? That's a long way."